


This Truth, it's Worse Than Anything I Could Bring Myself to do to You

by sentimental_boy



Series: Matt Murdock imagines [55]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Can be read as gender neutral, F/M, I'm pretty sure, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_boy/pseuds/sentimental_boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You find Matt in a warehouse about to bleed out</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Truth, it's Worse Than Anything I Could Bring Myself to do to You

Out of everything Matt could be feeling right now, both emotionally and physically, the taste is the overwhelming factor. Due to his senses and the copious amount of blood flowing out of his body right now, he’d be able to taste it anyway. As he coughs, though his saliva feels too thick- too slimy. All he can taste is iron as he tries to spit, the leftover blood in his mouth sticking to and staining his teeth. The Daredevil suit adheres to his body. It's slipping and twisting, becoming impossibly tighter, is only an afterthought.

He’s going to die here. It’s a fact he’s accepted. What he has a harder time accepting- even in this state- is the impact it’ll have on his friends. Even with that fantastic catholic guilt complex of his, he knows the four people he has in his life do care. Claire will shake her head and remind everyone that his motives were noble, even if his actions were stupid. He’s grateful for that at least. Foggy will be angry at him for being an idiot. Karen will regard him with silent tears; maybe she’ll write an article about him. Then there’s you. You won’t know what happened. Will they tell you? Or will they keep his secret; even in death. You'll be mourning, confused, trying to decipher some bullshit story they feed you; while they try to convince you that you don’t need to see his body.

He’s so wrapped up in his last thoughts that he doesn’t hear the footsteps nearing. At first, he tenses when he finally notices the other person. Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dying. It’s not like they can do anything to (or for) him now. Then he feels his mask lifting, freeing his face. He lets out a breath of relief, only to have his ribs remind him of the various fractures that no doubt riddle the bones.

-0-

Sometimes you like to go out for a walk by the docks. It’s not the most scenic place you’ve ever been, but the deserted quality is a welcome one after so long in the crowded city. No one has seen Matt for two days now, nor is he answering his phone. You got worried and told Brett after 12 hours, and he filed the missing person’s report at 24 hours. All that’s left to do is hope that this is all a big misunderstanding and that he shows up. The last part is all that really matters. He just needs to show up. 

Before you can work yourself up anymore, you notice some shady guys coming out of a nearby warehouse. Ever the cautious one, you duck behind a piece of equipment and wait for them to pass. As they do, you hear something about Daredevil and finally taking care of him. Your ears perk up.

“Do you think it's a good idea to leave that guy alone in there?” One of the three men asks.

“He was on his last breath. No reason to stick around. It’s a big area anyone could’ve heard us torturing him.” Another one replies.

“Do you see anyone else?” The third one Mocks the second.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You guys stay here if you want, but I’m leaving. This place gives me the creeps anyway.”

You watch them walk off before heading toward the warehouse they came out of. It’s a stupid decision, but they said he’s about to die, what’s he going to do to you? In any case, Daredevil isn’t known for victimizing the innocent. You call an ambulance and give your location before you go in.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this much blood. Once you regain a conscious train of thought,though you walk over to the bleeding man before you. You don’t know exactly what one does in this situation, so you end up kneeling next to him.

“I- do you want your mask off?” It feels like a stupid question in light of the puddle of blood you’re sitting in, but you’re at a loss. It’s not like you learn this stuff in public school.

The man grunts, but you’re not sure if it’s the pain or he’s trying to answer you. You take it as a yes and remove the helmet. Judging by the sigh of relief you receive, you did the right thing. When you take a look at his face, your heart jackhammers into your throat.

“Matt?” And in that single syllable, you let out all the fear, pain, and shock you’ve felt since you realized Matt was missing.

His eyes dart around, searching for something he’ll never see, his body jerking to find you. And through all the pain he’s feeling, you can see  _relief_ \- you can hear it- as he stutters out your name.

“Yes Matt, it’s me. Fuck, what-”

He cuts you off, pulling you down to him, smearing blood all over your clothes, but you don’t care. You’re confused and  _scared_ \- oh god, are you scared- but Matt’s here. He’s here, alive in your arms, and you're determined to do everything you can to keep him that way. He’s getting clammier by the second, but he just uses what’s left of his stregnth to pull you close, aimlessly grabbing fistfulls of your shirt as he tries to gather you closer. “I’m  _sorry_.” He breathes into your ear.

“Hey, Matt. Matt, baby. You’re going to be okay.” You take off your jacket and put it under his head, lowering him back down to the ground so he doesn’t hurt himself further. As he collapses back down, you brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his face. It’s all you can do to pull yourself together when you see the picture this so morbidly paints. His sickly pale, damp skin and dark hair framed in red. “I called the ambulance before I came in here.” You sniff. “They’re going to help you. You’ll get a transfusion, and you’ll be okay Matt.” You busy yourself running your fingers through his hair, tethering you to him through touch since your tears have made your eyes as useless as his. You refuse to move your hands from his body, though even to wipe your eyes.

-0-

The ambulance finally gets there and you only let go of Matt to allow the paramedics to put him on the gurney. You cover your mouth; the tears falling with renewed vigor as you watch them wheel Matt into the ambulance. Then you hear his voice, confused and  _broken_ , calling out your name.

“I’m right here, Matt.” You say as you rush to his side.

“Stay.” In that one word, you hear his desperation and fear clear as day.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise.

-0-

The paramedics took Matt into an operation room and told you to talk to reception. Now you're closed off in a waiting room trying to focus on the clipboard in front of you.  _Does_  Matt have insurance? What  _is_  his social security number? Why didn't he tell you he was Daredevil? Is that why he apologized to you? You realize you're not filling out the forms again.

Now that the adrenaline is draining out of you, and you can think again, you're not feeling what you would've expected to feel right now. There's no fear, anger, betrayal. Sure, you're worried in some distant part of you, but you're not feeling much of anything at all. The only thing that reminds you this is real, is the negative image of Matt's blood everytime you blink.

You have no idea how long you've been sitting like this- staring blankly at the forms before you- but it's been long enough for the doctor to finish with Matt and find you.

“Are you y/n?” She asks, a somber look on her face.

“Yes. Is he alive?”

“That's about all he is. I'm going to be honest with you, his wounds are severe. They tell me you're the one who found him so I'm sure you gathered that much.”

“Yeah.”

“He lost a lot of blood. We gave him a transfusion, but I still can't say whether he's going to make it.”

“Can you guess one way or the other?”

“As of right now he's stable. These things can change quickly, though. That's all I can tell you.”

You nod. “Thank you. When can I see him?”

“He’s in and out of consciousness right now, but he’s asking for you.”

-0-

You walk in the room to see Matt lying there, hooked up to various machines and bags. As you get closer and see the bruises, scrapes, and remnants of blood they couldn't quite scrub away, everything you weren’t feeling before, hits you now.  You collapse into the chair and desperately try to regain your self-control, but the harder you try to stop, the more tears come.

When Matt wakes again, you’ve stopped even trying to wipe the tears from your face. Every time you think you have a handle on your emotions, they just come back in full force.

“Y/n? Y/n? Is that you?” Matt turns his head and reaches out to you.

You take a breath. “Yeah.” You reach out so he can find your hand. “It’s me, Matt.”

He lets out a shuddering breath and takes your hand with a strength you didn't even know he possessed.

“Wow- okay-”

“I'm sorry.” He cuts you off, pulling your arm closer to his chest. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you.”

“Okay, but why didn't you?”

“I tried. I know that sounds so stupid, but it's the truth. Every time I started thinking about it, I'd find new ways to say it. In my head, though, in every scenario you left me. Then when I put that aside, I couldn't stop thinking about how you'd worry. I couldn’t do that. Not to you.”

“So, instead, you just let me find you 5 minutes away from bleeding out.”

“I didn’t- I thought I was being more careful.”

“Matt, it doesn’t matter how careful you are. As long as you’re doing this, there’s a chance of you dying out there. There’s no point in denying it. I think I deserve to know that my boyfriend is sneaking out at night, taking out criminal enterprises.”

“I know. I just- I know.”

“You just what, Matt? I’m not trying to lecture you, I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me, I’m just tired and stressed, and confused, and  _worried._ I haven’t had time to process this, so it’s all coming out without thought.”

He nods. “You know- just from what I’ve told you- that I have a bad track record with-” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Happiness. With my dad, then stick, growing up in an orphanage, it hasn’t been easy. I’m not trying to complain, or invoke pity- I don’t want that. Especially not from you. What I haven’t told you, is how all my other relationships have ended. I know you know a little from talking to Foggy, but he doesn’t even know everything. More times than not, I end up clutching the lifeless body of the person I love. Or they leave me. I know it’s stupid, but I thought that maybe if I kept you separate from my life as Daredevil, I could keep you safe too. I didn’t want this to affect you.”

You sigh. “Matt, I love you. I’m in love with you-  _all_  of you. I don’t want to be the blissfully ignorant significant other. I want this-  _us_ \- to be a partnership. I want to work  _with_  you, not be one step behind you. Please, Just be honest and open with me. That’s all I ask.”

He squeezes your hand. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

You can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat. Before you can stop him, he gathers his strength and lifts his body, scooting to the far side of the bed.

“Matt you need to lay still.”

His only response is to pull back the covers and pat the spot next to him.

“I don’t want to encourage this behavior, Matt.” You cross your arms, knowing you’ve already lost this battle.

A little smile rests on his face. “Well, I already moved, so you’re not proving your point by sitting in that chair.” He listens as you sigh, and knows as well as you do that you’re about to get up. That doesn’t stop his grin from growing as he adds a “please?”

You get up to lay next to him, and once you’re comfortable, he scoots closer, resting his head on your chest.

“Thank you.” He murmurs.

“For what?”

“For keeping my secret even though I'm sure you’re still confused. For being here despite having every reason not to be. I’m still in shock that I didn’t lose you.”

“And I’m shocked I haven’t lost _you_. There was so much blood Matt.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not. I mean, it would’ve been better had it not happened at all, but I’m glad I was there. I’m glad you didn’t have to go through that completely alone.”

“Me too.” He squeezes you tighter.

-0-

After you fell asleep for the second time (this time on a hospital couch, much to Matt’s chagrin) Matt observes you. As he lays there, listening to your finally peaceful breathing, he vows to leave you. As much as it will break his heart to hurt you, it’s the only way. He refuses to be the cause of your suffering or even death. Because that’s what your life will be if you stay with him.

He’ll continue to protect you, of course, but from afar. In the shadows like he does with everyone else. Because he loves you. He loves you with everything he has- sometimes it’s all he has- but for that very reason, he  _has_  to let you go.

-0-

Matt can’t bring himself to do it. For the first couple weeks, he tells himself that he’ll break it off once he gets out of the hospital. Then he gets home. He goes over it in his head that night, but he can’t come up with a way to tell you without sounding like he was just using you until he got better. After all the nights you spent on that couch, only leaving his side to shower and smuggle in real food instead of the mush the cafeteria made. You did so much for him, and what’s more, you did all this fresh off of finding out about his vigilante identity. You didn’t yell or berate him about it like Foggy did. (Not that he blames Foggy; he had every right to react the way he did.) But there’s something to be said about how you let him recover, about how calm you stayed, letting him reveal this part of himself at his own pace. No, he couldn’t do it so soon. Because the thing at would break him,  _truly_  break him, is if you thought his feelings for you were a facade. He’s been there once, again, with Foggy, and he doesn’t think he can go through that again. Especially not with you. No, it’s  _imperative_  that you know he’s doing this out of love. It’s two months before he runs out of excuses.

-0-

“Thank you for meeting me here.”

“Uh, no problem.” You look around his apartment, trying to assess the reason for his grave tone. “What’s up Matt?”

He leans forward, taking your hands in his. “Y/n, I love you.  _So_  much.” He sighs. “It’s why I’m doing this.”

“Matt, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

He takes a ragged breath, then swallows the lump in his throat. “We can’t be together anymore.”

“What?”

In retrospect, he doesn’t know what he was expecting, but your hands slipping from his is one of the worst things he’s ever felt. It’s right up there with feeling his dad’s face, the blood still warm and wet as it seeped out of the wound on his head. Your hands leaving his, for good, makes him feel as if you’re taking his heart from his body. No, that’s not right. Maybe if you did that, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But this is what needs to happen. It’s why he sat you down today.

“Why?”

Your voice breaks through his thoughts. He’s surprised too, at your tone. There are no tears, no sadness; instead, there’s a tired resolve. Like you were expecting this. He expected the question when he thought this through, but he didn’t expect the attitude, and it throws him off. “What?” He sniffs.

“Why are you leaving me? Besides for the fact that you love me.”

“I won’t- I  _can’t_  be responsible for your sleepless nights, and your emotional pain. What if one of my enemies finds out who I am? Or that you know about Daredevil? What if they hurt you, or kill you to get to me? I couldn’t live with myself.”

“What, and you think by breaking up with me you’re not causing me _emotional pain_?”

“I know I'm hurting you, and it’s  _killing_  me. But once I’m out of your life you’ll-” He has to stop to gather himself. “You’ll get over me. You’ll move on. That’s all I want for you.”

“So you’re saying it’s for my own good? That  _you_ know what’s best for  _me_?”

“That’s not- Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”

“Then what is it, Matt? Because that’s what I’m hearing.  _Please_ correct me if I’m wrong but-”

“Damn it Y/n! I’m trying to keep you  _safe_.”

“Oh, well, in _that_ case, I totally understand.” You tell him, false sympathy thick in your voice. “Goodbye, Matt.”

“Y/n, wait.” He stands, grabbing your arm.

“What?” When he doesn’t say anything, you release all the emotions you’ve been holding back since he sat you down. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why you called me here today?”

He shakes his head, openly crying now. “No. No, I never wanted this. I need to keep you safe. This is the only way to do that.”

“Oh, I get it now. You’re supposed to be the hero here. You wanted me to be sad, but give a resolute nod, realizing the sacrifice you’re making for me. Well, it’s a little hard to do that when I never asked for your sacrifice.  _I_  wanted to make this work. Because guess what? I love you too. You think I don’t know- didn’t know right away, the dangers involved with loving you? The second I saw your face under that mask I made a choice. I decided to trust you despite not getting an ounce of that trust from you. Not only that, but I decided to stay. Because  _that’s_  what you do when you love someone.”

“So after all this, you still want me?”

“Of course, I still want you. Why do you think I’m still standing here?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe it hadn’t hit you yet, how dangerous I am.”

“So you could’ve sat down and explained that to me instead of unilaterally deciding that we can’t be together.”

“I’m sorry.” He puts his arms around your waist. “It just felt so selfish, like I was still keeping something from you.”

“Well, believe it or not, I did think of these things.”

“I should’ve known.” He leans in and gives you a sweet kiss.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” You smile. “So we’re good? I’m not going to think you’re inviting me over for brunch when you’re actually trying to break up with me?”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Do you want to go get lunch now, because I’m hungry.”

“I’d love to.”


End file.
